


My Weekend With Billie Joe.

by sgtlennon



Category: Green Day
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drug Use, M/M, Sex, Suicide, pill overdose
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-05-31 12:00:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6469318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sgtlennon/pseuds/sgtlennon





	My Weekend With Billie Joe.

It was the Summer of 1989, school had just let out, the last bus letting little kids off on the corner, hearing the roar of the engine leave off down the street. Laid out in my room, chuckling to myself as I attempted to drown out the sound of kids screaming, fearing for their lives they'd get caught by their friends in a game of tag. I however was afraid I'd get caught taking a drag off of this joint I had gotten from some guy at school. Last day and I was still getting into trouble. Some song by the Dead Kennedys spun from the record being played. I wasn't sure what song it was, then again I didn't care. Too overwhelmed, too distracted. Bringing the joint to my lips and inhaling, allowing the smoke to pass through my throat, fill my lungs, and after a few moments I exhaled it through my mouth and nose. Smoke filled the room and the truth was, did I care if I had gotten caught? Not really. My window had been open, and I knew if anyone had walked or drove past I'd have been fucked.

 

I lived in possibly the shittiest town in the state of Georgia, there was absolutely nothing here. Nothing to do for fun, that is. Sex, drugs, good music and desperate girls hoping to get with the guys they find 'impressive.' And it'd be a lie if I didn't find them impressive as well. After all, they were muscular, on the schools teams, and had good grades. I never had to go back to that school again, luckily. Never had to hear the annoying and loud laughs of my 'peers.' I preferred loud music. Now that school was out, I really had nothing to do. Being bored out of my mind, constantly, which is why I smoke. Why I drink. I felt the cold metal of the chain swinging down from my belt rub up against my knee, it sent trembles through my spine.

 

Taking sips of alcohol combined with drags off of the joint, staring up at my ceiling, I was bliss. Relaxed, for once. That's when I heard a car door slam - followed by the front door to the house. "Jonas!" I heard someone scream as they came in. Sounded like my mother. Of course. When was she not screaming my name after all? From the time I was a small boy, my parents were never there for me. Also being an only child, I never had a sibling to look up to, or watch after. My parents don't give a shit what I do, that is, considering my dad is "dead" and its just me and my mom now. Stepping out of the door to my bedroom, staring my mom in the face as I shrugged. A joint still in one hand and a bottle in the other, I gave her the most sincere look I could conjure up, which in the end just was sarcastic. Her hands on her hips, staring at me, sighing and shaking her head. "I told you to do these dishes." I chuckled and furrowed my eyebrows, walking past her and walking out of the door to my house.

 

"Jonas don't you walk away from me!" She started, following me out of the house, and I laughed even more. I turned to face her, spinning my car keys around my finger as all I muttered was "Fuck off." My eyes gleamed at her and as big and brown, filled with pleads as they were she still continued to walk towards me. Getting into my car, I locked it immediately and she began to yell. To throw a fit. And she calls me a kid. Pathetic. Her face was red, with anger or if she was blushing, I had no idea. Probably both. See the thing about my mom was, since I was her only kid, she had bad problems controlling me. And separation issues. I was a spoiled, privileged brat, and I wasn't afraid to admit that. But, with my mom, she thought everything was against her. As mentally ill as she was, I was sure I got it from her. Maybe my dad too, who the fuck knew? I never knew the bastard. If he wasn't here, he was "away in the army," but I'm sure my mom used that as an excuse. Arguments over the phone, thats what I remember, then one day, the calls just stopped. The letters did too. He remembered my birthday at least, I got letters, with child support money.

 

But now, since I'm 18, the letters have stopped and so has the money. Meaning, I had to get a job. Flipping burgers at McDonald's wasn't all bad, neither was delivering pizzas, but they just weren't what I wanted to always do. The income however, was absolute shit. Meaning as of right now, I was supposed to be at work, late as always. They never fired me, because they were desperate. As desperate as I was. Putting my hat on, I started up my car and pulled out of the driveway, watching my mom stomp back into the house and slam the door. Whatever, see if I gave a shit. I knew I wasn't going to get any money from her. Especially not after she died anyway. She had no money to her name.

 

I however knew that my father, for a fact, had money. Mom was always screaming at him on the phone. Something about cheating, once again, whatever. Life was shit. A bitch. I didn't need it, him, or anyone else. I was doing my own thing. If my money wasn't going to food or gas, or even clothes, and the occasional show, it went to drugs. Drugs. They were all I needed. And I did them all, mostly, when I had enough for it. Heroine was my personal favorite. Cocaine, that was a close second. She was surely a beauty, nothing compared to heroine, but, I usually had more money for it. Now meth, I hated meth. Wasn't for me. I tried it once, hated it. It all started with weed, and sure, that was nice, fun, good times, but once you get into that - you want more. And more. And then you dive deeper into the world of drugs, and you invest all your time, your health, and your money into it. It sucks, but I can't stop. If I can't drugs, usually weed, cigarettes or alcohol suffice until I can get more. But, being an addict, it was getting hard to live without it.

 

Pulling into the McDonalds parking lot, I sighed and pulled out a baggy of Coke. Just staring at it made me lust for it. The smell, the taste. Drugs were something otherworldly. And I loved them. More than anything or anyone. Pouring out a bit onto my hand and sniffing it as quickly as I could, I felt it skyrocket immediately. It sure was blissful to be doing something that wasn't miserable. See, my routine was basic, normal. And it was the same thing day after day. I needed something more fun, to get me through the boredom that was my life. Music, was one thing, drugs, another.

 

Getting out of my car and walking into the shitty place I called my work, going into the bathroom to immediately wash my hands. I couldn't prep burgers with traces of cocaine on them. For some reason the handle on the door was extra cold, and as I turned the water on I heard someone flush and come out of the stall. "Dude this bathroom is a fucking mess!" I heard someone exclaim and I turned to the man, he looked up at me, as if I was going to cause him harm. His hair, long, black, and he was short. Around 5'7". I however wasn't much taller, only being 5'9".

 

"Excuse me," I muttered. He smiled at me, as if he knew a secret. "You got anymore?" He asked, holding out his hand. Instead of me pulling out the baggy in my pocket and giving it to him, he reached in, grabbing it and taking it out. I looked down at him, he was attractive, for one thing. But how had he known I was high? And how did he know what on? "Thanks," He started, his smile growing wider as he stared at me, locking eyes with me. His were green - bright, piercing. "If you come to this address later, I'll give you some money for it." Handing me a card with the address he had been talking about and winking at me, biting his lip, his hand brushing my waist as he walked past me and out of the door. What the hell was that about? I tried putting my thoughts straight as two more guys walked in and I slammed through the door.

 

I was a cashier today, which was strange, but whatever. The man I had encountered in the bathroom kept staring at me while sitting with his friends. Who was he? He had never been around here before. Was he new to the neighborhood? Were they all? I had to focus, especially while being high. It was hard for me to be on drugs and at work. However, after that moment in the bathroom I was even more afraid. As if everyone knew. Two hours passed, shift not nearly over, and I asked if I could leave early. The man had left as soon as he finished his burger and fries, and I remember seeing him pass something to the two under the table. I didn't see the other twos faces, but, I'm sure they were good looking as well. I, however wasn't much to look at.

 

My hair was short and spiky, black, eyes, brown, freckles, not too big of a nose but also not small, piercings all over the place and I was just starting on my tattoos. I had a few. They meant something to me, but, that was a different story for another time. I had a pretty slim build, wasn't muscular, but I wasn't chubby or anything. And, to top it all off, I was gay. My jawline was pretty chiseled, adams apple always exposed. My arms were toned, I guess. But why would anyone see interest in me? I wasn't interesting.. I wasn't anything special.

 

The fact that someone had been taking a second look at me, was something strange. Foreign to me. Walking out the door of the shitty building, I looked around as I stumbled to my car. My high was beginning to wear off, but, that didn't matter. Opening the door and slamming it closed once I had gotten in. I hadn't been able to take my mind off of the man.. he took my coke. That, I was mad about. But his facial features were weaved into my brain. It was strange, I didn't usually remember faces, but his was the only image flashing whenever I closed my eyes.

 

I looked down at the card he had given me with the address, staring at it deeply. It was to a tattoo shop - what was he doing there? And why did he want me to come again? Oh right - money. Well, I did need it for the drugs, and I feel as if I deserved some information as to who he thought he was. I sighed, running a hand through my hair, and starting the car. Pulling the seatbelt over my chest and hearing it click. I pulled out of the parking spot and finally started on my way towards the shop.

 

A left, a right, then another left and I'd be there. Why was this taking so long? Was it worth it? Was he really going to give me the money? And why did I care? What was drawing me to this? Was it the money - or the guy? I needed to control my feelings, what was I going to say to him? As I sat there at a stop light, I made the turn as soon as it flashed green, just down this street and I'd be at the shop. Nervous, shaking, my hands were jittery on the wheel.

 

Pulling into the parking lot of the shop, I noticed three guys sat out of the shop on the bench, was that them? I couldn't tell. But I could hear them from outside of the door - of the closed window. I pulled into a parking spot and opened the door, climbing out when all of a sudden one of them came up and slammed the door for me. "Escorting" me over to the man who had taken my drugs earlier - I stared at him. Staring back at me with his big, green, piercing eyes. It was hard not to get lost in them. I noticed his mouth opening as he was going to speak, he got up from the bench and closed the space between us. A cigarette in his mouth, he blew smoke in my face.

 

"Here, here's some money. We weighed it out, this should cover what was left, plus some extra." He smirked at me, biting his lip and raised his eyebrows for just a moment. Beginning to walk away and back into the shop, I stared at him, particularly his ass as he walked away. "Hey!"

 

He turned on his heels to me, staring at me, I swallowed and was nervous but I needed to know, what brought him here. "I didn't catch your name.." I muttered, and he chuckled as he walked towards me. The heat building up around me, and inside of me, and I knew around him too since the friction was ever growing, he cocked his head and muttered "And who are you? Mr. McDonalds worker." He chuckled, and god was his smile beautiful.

 

It was a bit hard to stop myself from leaning forward and kissing him, but I managed to keep myself from doing it. "Jonas." I answered his question after a few moments of silence passed. Just staring down at him, I knew things were getting intense for the both of us. He was wearing jeans, they were tight. And it being summer, being hot, especially with him having long hair, he took off the shirt he had been wearing earlier. It was now bundled up in his hands, which were veiny and pleasuring to look at, for some reason. Was that weird of me to say?

 

Holding a hand out for me to shake, I was nervous to bring my own to his. Watching him squint his eyes, god he was so nice to look at and it was killing me. "Billie, Billie Joe." He said as I took his hand in my own. The feeling of his skin on mine, it was nice. I wasn't ready for his next movements, he pulled me close, and whispered something into my ear. "And uh if you got anymore drugs.." He paused for a minute, and I don't think I was ready for the next part. "I'll suck your dick for it." Placing the cigarette back between his teeth as he backed away from me, eyebrows raised, smirking a bit at me.

 

I couldn't tell if he had been joking or not, but I was shocked as hell. Was he.. serious? Because, if he was, I had more drugs I needed to get rid of and it wasn't as if I was entirely against that offer. "Wait.. really?" Thats when Billie grabbed my hand and lead me back to my car, opening the back door he pushed me in the back seat and closed the door behind him. Was he high? Or just stupid? Or he only cared about drugs. But before I could say much of anything his lips were on mine and I was gripping the leather of the seat. He however put his cigarette out on my skin and it made me moan a bit into his mouth.

 

He must have liked pain, receiving or inflicting it. But his hands.. they were callused and rushing across my torso in a needy fashion. I couldn't help but shift my hips to his own. Feeling him bite down onto my lip, I gasped for air as I pulled him back off of me by his hair. He stared at me, and that was all that he did, for a moment. Until he leaned in closer, running his fingertips across my jaw and kissing me. Ever so gently. His lips simply a light tap onto mine.

 

"Billie.." I said as I trailed off, looking down at him as he now was placing kisses on my neck and collarbone. Trying his hand at removing my clothes. 


End file.
